


Let It All Fade

by gray_autumn_sky



Series: Missing Year Fics [10]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 14:27:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9238985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gray_autumn_sky/pseuds/gray_autumn_sky
Summary: After a terrible day, Robin decides to make Regina forget all about it.(With the added bonus of Missing Year flashbacks.)





	

He lights the candles and looks around the room—smiling at how quickly it all came together—then he turns to the window and watches her pull into the driveway. Even from a distance he can see how tense her shoulders are and the tightness in her jaw—and as she slam the car door, he can see that she hasn’t calmed down from that afternoon. Tightening the knot in his robe, he goes downstairs to meet her—opening the door as she reaches for her key, and for a moment, she only blinks at him—and then her eyes begin to linger.

“Why are you dressed that way?” She asks, stepping inside as the door closes behind her, once more taking note of his robe.

A soft laugh escapes him as she pulls her coat from her shoulders. “I didn’t think the neighbors wanted a peep show.”

“While considerate,” she begins in a curt tone. “That doesn’t explain why you’re so… underdressed.”

“Underdressed?” He asks as his eyebrows arch and a smile stretches over his lips. “Perhaps you’re just overdressed.”

Her eyebrow juts up—and he can see that she’s not amused. “Where are the kids?”

“Killian and Emma have them.”

“But it’s Thursday…”

“I know,” he says, “But I heard you had a difficult day.”

“Difficult is an understatement.” Letting out a long sigh, she rolls her eyes. “You should have seen them—so snide and entitled, asking for such ridiculous things as if anyone else could benefit from lowering counter tops at every store and restaurant, as if that’s something I even have the power to do—and then—then!—that _imbecile_ George…”

“Ashley’s father in law?”

“Who else?” She spats, not realizing that his fingers have laced though hers. “He had the _audacity_ to say that perhaps if I can’t get the job done, _someone else_ should.” Her eyes widen, but not because Robin’s free hand has slid over her hip and just as she doesn’t notice that, she doesn’t seem to notice his fingers tugging gently at her blouse. “Right in front of everybody he challenged me, announcing that he’s going to run against me in the next election—and those _obnoxious little vermin_ cheered and…” Suddenly her voice halts and her eyes narrow at him.  “Wait… how did you know that I’d had a bad day? We haven’t talked since before the town hall.”

“Oh,” he murmurs, deciding quickly not to go into the details about how Leroy had come into Granny’s while he was having lunch, loudly broadcasting that the town hall meeting had taken a lively turn and the mayor was visibly vexed—or that in another description he’d actually used the word unhinged. “I just heard that things had gotten… heated.”

She scoffs and starts to look away, likely ready to rant, but the sensation of soft fabric rubbing slowly against her skin catches her attention and his coy little grin deepens when their eyes meet and as he frees a section of shirt from her skirt. “Are you… attempting to seduce me?” She asks, her eyes shifting up at him—and he can’t quite tell if she’s enraged by the notion or intrigued by it.

“I’m… trying to relax you.”

“Relax me…” 

“Yes.”

“What if I don’t want to be relaxed?” She asks, her eyebrow arching her jaw once more tightening. “What if I want to spend the evening in a rage?”

“You could do that,” he says as his fingers slide against the top of her skirt, skimming against stiff fabric and soft skin. “But what will it accomplish?”

“And what will letting you seduce me accomplish?”

“A clear head.” At that, she scoffs, but when he takes a step in and his fingers press into her skin as his draw her hips toward him, she swallows hard and he can see the first flicker of a smile in her eyes. “I know you’re upset. You have every right to be upset. You were ambushed and caught off guard, and you weren’t prepared to be challenged—and you can choose to rage on and rehash every little thing and until you have that murdery little glint in your eye, or you can let go for a little while, relax and clear your head… and then figure out what you’re going to do about it.”

She lets out a breath. “I… can’t relax.”

“Well,” he begins as his hand slips around her to ease down the zipper of her skirt to pull her shirt away from it. “It’s a lucky thing for you that I am something of an expert in that field.” He gives her hand a little squeeze, winking at her as he tugs her toward the stairs.

_____

_As soon as her door is locked, she slams him back against it and her lips come crashing down onto his. He can’t help but kiss her back as her fingers work furiously at his belt._

_It had started with a kiss—one very angry kiss._

_He’d seen her coming down the corridor and he’d stopped, watching the way she moved—elegantly and graceful but with an obvious purpose. Her shoulders were back and her jaw was tight, and as she got closer, he could see tears glistening in her eyes. His lips had parted, wanting to ask why she looked so upset, but he didn’t have time ask—instead, she’d grabbed him, and pulled him into a kiss.  He could feel her fury, and it felt so odd mixed with her soft lips—and when he’d pulled back to look at her with questioning eyes, she’d pressed herself back to him for another kiss—and this time, he complied._

_One kiss had led to another and then to another, and before he could even process what was happened, they were in her room and he was pinned against the door._

_“Regina,” she breathes out, swallowing hard as her hand slips into his pants. “Oh, god…” She leans back in, biting down on his bottom lip as her fingers form around his hardening shaft. His eyes close as tongue flattens just beneath his jaw—and for a brief moment, he entertains the thought of allowing her to have her way with him. Then, regretfully, his eyes open and he gently pushes her back. “Wait.”_

_“What?” He feels a pang of guilt as confusion settles in her eyes and, then she turns away from him. He watches as she takes a few steps into the room as her hand comes up to cover her eyes—and he watches her shoulder rise and fall as she takes a deep breath. “You don’t want me,” she says, in a flat voice that’s void of surprise._

_“No, not…”_

_“Why would you?” she asks, in quite tone that has a cutting edge. “You should leave.”_

_“Regina…”_

_She turns to him and even in the dimly lit room, he can see her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Go.”_

_“You didn’t let me finish,” he says as he takes a tentative step toward her—a sheepish grin pulling onto his lips. “Well, actually, you never let me begin.” He stops in front of her, carefully keeping a small distance between them, but wanting desperately to reach for her, wanting to reassure her. “I want you. More than anything, I want you, but…” He sighs. “Not like this. Not when you’re only doing it to forget about whatever’s upset you, not when you’re going to have me leave as soon as it’s done, and not when you’ll regret it all in the morning.”_

_“How considerate,” she murmurs, looking away—and he watches as her head dips forward, wondering if anyone’s every comforted her._

_“I want you, but… I want you to want me, too.” Closing the distance between them, his hand slips over her hip—and when she doesn’t pull away, he steps around her so that they’re face to face. “What’s wrong?”_

_“Who says anything’s wrong?”_

_“Let me help.”_

_“That’s just it,” she says, looking up at him and shrugging her shoulders dismissively. “You can’t.”_

_“I don’t believe that,” he says, leaning in offering a soft and unassuming kiss. “Let me try.”_

_She laughs regretfully and shakes her head. “All I wanted to do was drag you in here and fuck you until I…” Her voice trails off and again she looks away, not finishing and not looking at him._

_“Until what, M’lady?”_

_“Until I didn’t want to murder someone.”_

_His brow creases and from the way she looks up at him, he can see she’d expected him to pull away—but he hadn’t and he had no intention of doing so. Then, almost suddenly something in her changes, and she nods he nods, taking a breath as she explains—she explains the way they’d looked at her when she admitted that Zelena was her sister. Her voice hitches in the back of her throat as she tells him about the distrust that settled in their eyes, that someone had had the audacity to suggest she’d been in on the Wicked Witch’s scheme from the start, that she’d been looking for an excuse to bring them back to the Enchanted Forest—back without a savior._

_“I wouldn’t have… given up my…”_

_“Of course not,” he murmurs without a beat as her voice trails off, not need her to finish to know what she was going t say. “Of course you wouldn’t have.”_

_He watches as she struggles against herself, her jaw tightening to keep it from trembling—and her eyes narrow with skepticism. “Why do you trust me?”_

_“You haven’t given me a reason not to,” he tells her easily, shrugging his shoulders as his hand slides over her hip, drawing her to him. Her breath catches an as his lips graze over hers and he smiles when she doesn’t pull away. “Will you stay? Will you let me help?”_

_“I… don’t think those two things are… mutually exclusive.”_

_“You’re right,” he agrees with a nod. “But that doesn’t mean they can’t be.” He grins a little as his fingers press into the fabric of her dress. “I will be an ally and a friend, and I won’t deny that I want to be more than that… but not matter what I feel or what I want, I won’t be used.”_

_She nods and for a moment, her eyes fall away from his—but she doesn’t pull away. He can see her eyes sink closed and he knows that she’s not used to this, not used to being wanted or accepted, not used to having support. He takes a step back, wondering if she needs a little space, not wanting to overwhelm her or force something she doesn’t want—but when he does, she reaches for him._

_He looks back to her—and then, in a barely audible whisper, she asks him to stay._

_“You’re sure?”_

_She nods. “I… I ne…”_

_“You don’t have to say it,” he tells her, taking a step back toward her as his lips crash down over hers._

____

In the bedroom the shades are drawn and candles give the room a warm glow. On the nightstand is a familiar little bowl with a flame beneath it and a few unlit candles beside it—and on the bed is an old blanket. The room looks warm and inviting, offering promises of warm sensations and soft touches and he sees a hint of a smile forming on her lips.

He comes up behind her, his pressing soft and fluttering kisses along the nape of her neck as he eases down the zipper on her skirt. She breathes out as the skirt pools at her feet as his fingers slide to the button on her blouse, his lips sliding to her shoulder as the fabric falls away from her body. His hands settle on her bare stomach, skimming down her skin until his finger tips dip into the waistband of her panties—and he smiles as his lips brush up to the crook of her neck to suck gently at her earlobe. A little sigh escapes her as she leans back into him, driving his hand lower—and he can feel her tension beginning to fade.

Pulling his lips away from her, he unclasps her bra, discarding into onto the floor with the rest of her clothes. His hands run down the length of her arms, his hand finding hers as he gives her a little tug toward the bed. He instructs her to lie down—and she smirks as she removes the last little piece of fabric covering her before settling on her stomach.

Robin sweeps her hair to the side, away from her shoulders, quickly dotting kisses down her back as he reaches to remove the little lid atop the bowl of warming oil—and he watches as a grin forms on her lips with the smell of lavender wafts up through the air, filling their senses. A little reluctantly, he pulls away from her, dripping both of his hands into the oil, covering them completely before turning his attention back to Regina. 

He starts at her shoulders—pressing firmly as he rubs the lavender oil against her skin, slowly working his hands from her shoulders to the space just between her shoulder blades. Pausing briefly, he dips his hands back into the oil, then slide them down her back and focusing on the low curve of her back—a place he’s come to know that she likes. She offers a contented and encouraging sigh as his fingers and palms work away the pent up tension in her back. Sliding his hands back up, he returns to her shoulders then rubs down her arms and back up again—and once more, she sighs.

A smile curls onto his lips as his hands ghost quickly down her back, and his attention turns to her ass—sliding and gently squeezing as a smile pulls onto her lips and he feels his own arousal beginning to build. After a few minutes, his hands ease down over the back of her thighs and behind her knees, the eventually to her calves. He can’t help but grin as one of her knees bends up, lifting her foot to his hands as her toes wiggle—and with another quick application of oil to his hands, he works his fingers over her feet and toes, trading one for the other. His fingers press and squeeze until her legs are limp and she can’t hold them up anymore—and then his hands skim up the back of her legs, applying just enough pressure to earn another contented sigh before his fingers begin kneading at her ass.

“Turn over,” he murmurs as he pulls his hands away—smiling as she obliges.

For a moment, he just looks at her, watching as she lays facing him—wide open eyes and a faint smile, unabashed and beautifully relaxed. It occurs to him, as he feels a little twinge beneath his robe that he’s succeeded in calming her and she wouldn’t be put off if he moved onto another sort of pleasurable activity. But a smile pulls onto his lips and his hands dip back into the oil, and he watches she her eyes follow his hands—and he watches as a smile pulls onto her lips.

He starts at her feet rubbing along the thin skin and pressing his fingers down between her toes. He works his way to the arch of her foot and then to her ankle—doing each foot at a time, taking his time to touch each and every inch of her. His hands slide tenderly up her legs, massaging her calves and thighs, intentionally avoiding the space between her legs as his hands ghost up her body.  He rubs up her torso and down her arms, then back again. He kneads her breasts, gently squeezing the soft flesh as he rolls her nipples between his thumb and forefinger—and again, she offers a shaky little sigh as she whispers his name, willing him to continue.

A little reluctantly, he lets his hands slip away from her breasts and down her torso—finally settling on the soft skin between her legs. He rubs for a few minutes, and a moan escapes her as two fingers slide down over her lips—and once more, he shifts himself on the bed. Her eyes open at the momentary lack of touch and he looks up at her, pushing up her legs and settling himself between them. He watches as she sucks in a breath as his fingers slip inside of her, slowly working in and out of her—and she offers a little whimper when he pulls them away. A coy little grin edges onto his lips as he leans in, flicking his tongue against her clit before sucking it between his lips and dipping his fingers back into her—and once more, a contented sigh escapes her.

____

_He’s lying on her bed—an excited little smile on his lips as he looks up at Regina. She’s naked and kneeling over him—and even now, he can’t quite believe that this has become a regular thing between them. He loves her and he think she loves him too—and though no one quite knows about the relationship budding between them, he hopes that won’t be the case for much longer—despite that it gives him a little thrill to be a part of a secret to which no one else is privy. He quickly learned that they needed to take things slowly, that she needed time to get comfortable and adjust, that she needed time to accept that she didn’t have to bear her burdens alone and that she could turn to him for comfort—and for love. She knows how he feels—that has never been as secret—and while she hasn’t admitted her own feelings—likely not even to herself—he can see it in her eyes and he can feel it in her touch._

_That first kiss had been so rushed, forced almost—in a dark corner of a corridor—and when he’d offered her more than just a release, she’d been reluctant—reluctant not because she didn’t want more, but because more had always been denied to her and she doubted that anyone would ever willingly offer it. After that first time together, he’d stayed for the night—holding her as they slept and when they’d awoken in the morning, she offered him a shy little smile, quietly admitting she was glad he was there._

_And as he looks up at her now, he can’t help but think that they have something exciting and real, and something he hopes will be lasting._

_Regina grins as eyebrow arches, her eyes trailing down to his throbbing erection—and he wishes she’d just sink down onto him, enveloping him with her slick warmth and riding him until they were both overwrought with ecstasy. But her lip catches between her teeth—and she asks him if he’s sure._

_He nods and watches as she reaches for a candle from the folds of the blankets—and he watches as her hand waves over it, the wick suddenly igniting. And he takes a breath, watching as she watches the flame, watching it flicker in her dark eyes. He’s never done anything like this before—but when she suggested it, he’d been intrigued—and after the day he’d had patrolling the grounds in search of signs of the Wicked Witch’s flying little minions, he couldn’t help but think of those warm little droplets tingling against his skin and it seemed like an adventurous way to unwind… or at least he hoped it would be._

_She looks down at him—her eyes questioning once again, giving him the chance to change his mind. But he smiles, folding his arms behind his head and arching an eyebrow as though to dare her. He takes a quick breath and closes his eyes as she tips the candle, and a few drops of wax drop onto his well-oiled skin—and it’s not at all what he expected. It doesn’t burn as he thought it might, instead the wax warm the tiny spot of skin that it touches, slowly spreading to the uncovered skin that surrounds it—and when his eyes open and a small smile edges onto his lips, she gets a little more daring. She pours more than a few droplets this time, letting it drizzle against his chest and onto one of his nipples—and he’s not sure he can describe the sensation it causes. It’s warm and tingly, like warm droplets of rain—and somehow makes his erection throb a little more. The wax begins to dry, cooling the skin beneath it, and when she drizzles a little more wax onto those cooled spots, letting the wax fall in random patterns, he breathes out a little sigh, more than enjoying the mixture of cool and warm splotches along his skin._

_When the candle’s nearly burned and his chest is covered, his erection is aching—and he can see wetness glistening between her legs—and he thinks of how good it’ll feel when she finally sinks down onto him, pleasuring him with another mixture of hot and cold._

_She smiles seductively as she blows out the candle, leaning up to drop the candle into the table beside her bed—and when she does, the wetness between her legs, grazes the tip of his cock, sending a shudder down his spine. She pulls herself back and slowly sinks onto him, her fingers pressing into his chest as she rides him—her nails grazing over the wax, dipping beneath it and allowing the cool air to seep in and chill the warm skin._

_Her fingers move in rhythm with her hips, pulling away as she sinks down onto him and pushing beneath the wax as lifts herself back up._

_“Do you feel better?” She asks, her eye brow arching as she offers him a knowing little smirk as her palms flatten and press down on his chest, as his length disappears into her and she rolls her hips, her muscles squeezing him._

_“Oh god, yes,” he manages to say, as she pushes herself down and her fingers begin to retreat, her hand dragging down over his waxy chest, causing so many wonderful sensations all at once—a perfect way to warm a cold winter’s night, he thinks._

 ____

He ghosts kisses up her torso and he can feel his erection poking at the silky fabric of his robe. He pulls himself up her body, hovering over her as his lips find hers. She reaching into the robe and her fingers curl around him, pumping and twisting her hand over his shaft.

It takes everything in him to pull away from her and readjust himself at her side. Turning toward the nightstand, he reaches for one of the candles and then into the drawer, retrieving a black silky scarf that’s been used time and time again for all sorts of purpose during their play and a little insulated bag. He turns her to her as he draws up the scarf, grinning as her eyebrow arches.

“I thought we might do something a little… different.”

“Oh?”

He grins as his hand slips behind her head, and she sits up a little as she lets him tie it around her eyes. She lies back as he lights the candle and her eyebrows arch as she hears him unzip the little bag. For a moment, he watches the flickering flame, watching as the wax pools around the wick. Getting up, he takes off his robe, letting it join her clothing on the floor—and when he turns back to her, he watches as she squirm with anticipation and he can’t help but smile victoriously, knowing that everything that happened that afternoon is nowhere near her mind.

He takes a breath as he turns her, pushing her arms up over her head and drawing up her knees—and he watches as a smile twists onto her lips as her legs open. He sets the bag at her side and reaches for one of the candles as her positions himself between her legs—close enough to push into her, but choosing only to tease.

She lets out a breath as the tip of his cock slides between her lips, his head brushing up against her clit. He grins as he holds the candle above her, slowly tipping it and letting the wax drizzle down between her breasts and onto her torso and with his free hand, he drags his fingers through it—and again, she lets out a little breath.

He continues to drizzle the wax over, this time over her breasts, letting it pull around her hardening nipples—and a soft moan escapes her. He grins coyly as he reaches into the bag, pulling out a slightly melted ice cube—letting a few droplets of water fall between her breasts. She lets out a gasp and her back arches in surprise—and then she smiles her approval.

He swirls the ice cube over her wax-covered nipples, watching as they harden and crack through the wax—and then, he tips the candle toward her, letting the wax pool over her nipples, filling in the cracks.

“Oh!” She cries out, her back again arching as her head presses into the pillow, obviously enjoying the hot and cold sensations. “Oh, god...”

“You’re enjoying this…”

“Yes…”

“Good,” he murmurs as he slides the melting ice down her torso, letting the hot wax following as she writhes beneath it. His lip catches between his teeth as he drags the ice lower, turning the candle upright and stopping the wax and pulling his cock away from her warm, slippery folds—replacing it with the ice cube and again causing her to scream out at the sensation. He holds the ice cube still, watched as she her hips rock against it—and smiling when she hisses as it touches to her sensitive clit. A breathy moan escapes her as her as she starts to rock harder, pushing herself toward orgasm.

Eventually, the ice melts and his fingers replace it, slowly rubbing her to warm her up as she comes down from her high—and then, holds the candle above her, he drizzles the wax over her and almost immediately, he feels her coming again.

Blowing out what’s left of the candle, his fingers withdraw and he pulls himself up over her to put the candle back on the nightstand—and then he pulls away the scarf, smiling at her as his cock finally slips into her.

____

_The blanket is pulled up around them as his lips are settled on a favorite spot on her neck, just below her earlobe as his hand rubs over her ass—and both are still breathing heavily. Her fingers swirl against his bare chest—and for a few fleeting moments, everything stands still and everything feels so perfect._

_“What if… it fails?”_

_“Hmm?” He asks, humming against her skin._

_“Tomorrow,” she murmurs in reply. “What I have to do…”_

_He blinks as he lifts his head, knowing how uncomfortable she is with the notion of casting the Dark Curse yet again. He’s not quite sure what to expect from it, somehow having missed the last one, but he knows how difficult it’ll be for her, returning to a home she thought she’d never see again, to home that doesn’t include her son._

_“You’ve cast it before,” he says as she face turns toward him. “Why wouldn’t it work this time?” She swallows hard, offering a shaky breath in reply—and when he sees tears beginning to brim in her eyes, his fingers trace along her jaw and a gentle smile pulls onto his lips. “What’s really bothering you?”_

_She hesitates for a moment and then he eyes sink closed. “I have to kill him. I have to kill David, and…” His hand slides over her hip as her voice trails off and her eyes grow distant._

_“It’s the only way,” he says. “We’ve all discussed it a hundred times.”_

_“I know,” she says as her eyes open and she again turns to face him. “But I’m the only one who has to do something like this. I’m the only one who has to reach into a man’s chest and crush his heart, and… what if that’s all people remember?”_

_He nods and edges a little closer to her—suddenly understanding her fear, a fear that when all is said and done the acceptance she’s worked so hard to earn will be washed away, and all they’ll see when they look at her is the monster they’d always believed her to be. His hand slides over her hip and he draws her a little bit closer, holding her as he presses a kiss to her forehead. “That’s not going to happen.”_

_“You don’t know that. Their trust in me is tentative at best.”_

_“My trust isn’t.”_

_She nods and a small grin tugs onto her lips. “I know.”_

_“I… wish I could say I knew for certain what would happen tomorrow, but I can’t,” he says, his hand rubbing gently at the small of her back in a way he’s come to know she finds comforting. “But the one thing I do know for certain is that, whatever happens, you won’t have to go through it alone.”_

_For a moment, she doesn’t say anything—and for a moment, he can tell that she’s lost in thought, likely weighing just how far tomorrow’s events will spiral. He continues to rub her back, waiting for her to pull herself out of the ‘what ifs’ and come back to him, knowing not to press her. And when she finally does look back at him and her eyes meet his, there’s something in them that he can’t quite pin-point. Her lips part and her words catch at the back of her throat—and still, he rubs her back and waits._

_“I… love you,” she murmurs quietly, her eyes meeting his as she swallows hard. “I... just…want you to know that before tomorrow.”  Her jaw starts to tremble as he leans in, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead and another to her lips. He whispers that he loves her, too, as she cuddles into his chest. She lets him hold her, no longer tense or unsure the way that she’d been only a few months before, and she lets him comfort her as she builds up her resolve and he hopes she believes him when he tells her it’ll all be okay—and he hopes tomorrow doesn’t prove him wrong._

____

She sits up and grins over at him, still a little breathless as she picks off a piece of wax they’d missed. Robin pulls on his robe and offers her her own—and when she stands up on shaky legs, he bends down to slide his arm behind her knees, scooping her up and carrying her back downstairs. He sets her down onto the couch and covers her with a blanket, quickly leaning into peck her lips and grinning when she whimpers as he pulls back.

He promises to return quickly—and when he does, he’s carrying a little tray.

Her eyebrows arch and she cranes her neck to see what he’s carrying in, almost immediately reaching for a strawberry as soon as he’s near enough and earning a little laugh in response. There’s a glass of water and two flutes of champagne—and when she reaches for the champagne, he shakes his head and offers her the water first.

“You’re too good to me,” she tells him as he sits down beside her. “You know that, right?”

“I don’t think that’s actually possible.”

“You’ve always been good to me…”

“I try,” he says with a little laugh and he presses a kiss to her temple. “Do you feel better?” She nods as she takes a long sip of the water, practically downing it as he chuckles softly and shakes his head. “I’m glad.”

When she finishes the water, he hands her another strawberry and then selects one for himself—and for a few minutes, neither of them says anything. He stretches his arm around her shoulders and his head falls onto his arm, and for a little while, a content silence falls between them. She reaches for the flutes of champagne, handing him one and taking the other for herself—and then, she sighs. “What if I lose?”

“Hmm?” 

“I’ve never ran against someone.”

“Oh,” he murmurs softly. “I don’t think you have much to worry about. This town loves you.”

“That’s debatable,” she tells him in a skeptical voice. “You weren’t there today.”

“Most of the town wasn’t there today—just a few, very loud detractors.”  He presses another kiss to her temple as she takes a small sip of the champagne. “And tomorrow, we’ll come up with a plan.”

She takes a breath and nods. “Yeah, I suppose we’ll have to,” she says, turning and brushing her lips against his cheek. “Thank you for the distraction.”

He nods and smiles, as he turns to kiss her. She sets the flute of champagne down and he does the same, shifting himself over her as lays back, and they trade languid kisses. Her lips are warm and her mouth inviting—when she pulls back to catch her breath, she rests her forehead against his. And when wistful little sigh escapes her, he pulls himself up and smiles coyly.

“What?”

“You said that like I’m through with you.”

“Aren’t you?” She asks as he laughs softly and shakes his head, and then gives the knot on her robe a little tug. Her eyebrow arches and she watches him reach for a little bottle of clear aloe that sits on the tray—and when he squirts some of it into his palm, she opens her robe. 

“After all,” he begins, rubbing his hands together to warm them. “You and I are alone for the entire night, and I don’t intend on wasting a single second of that time.” She grins as hands slide over her torso, rubbing the aloe to her slightly reddened skin. Swallowing hard, she lays back, letting his hands wander over the spots the wax had once been—sighing contently as his warm hands massage her, working the cool aloe into her skin. Her eyes close after a few minutes—and once more, he finds himself smiling as thoughts of the afternoon and the battle that’s yet to come once more fade away


End file.
